What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy But to confront the visage of offence? And what's in prayer but this twofold force, To be forestalled ere we come to fall, Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up My fault is past. My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent, And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. My blessing season this in thee!ĬLAUDIUS: O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, A brother's murder! Pray can I not, Though inclination be as sharp as will. This above all- to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Neither a borrower nor a lender be For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy rich, not gaudy For the apparel oft proclaims the man, And they in France of the best rank and station Are most select and generous, chief in that. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel but being in, Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar: Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. There - my blessing with thee! And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. POLONIUS: Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay'd for.
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